


Affairs And Adieus

by Cerdic519



Series: The Dashwood Inheritance [7]
Category: AUSTEN Jane - Works, Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen, Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Alpha Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - 19th Century, Bullying, Castiel in Panties, Cuddling & Snuggling, Destiel - Freeform, Devonshire, England (Country), F/M, London, M/M, Minor Character Death, Ocean, Omega Castiel, Period Typical Attitudes, References to Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility - Freeform, Surprise Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-01-25 15:50:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12535404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: Yet anotherSense and SensibilityDestiel sequel (Jane, I'm still going!), this time starting in 1837. The year will see Victoria become Queen of England, Michigan become the 26th State in America, the first daguerrotype (early photographic system) appear in France, and Spain facing a civil war and a challenge from Catalonia. Change is also heading down the tracks to unsettle the quiet life of Mr. Dean Ferrers of Barton Park who, it can assuredly be said, is not totally and utterly whipped by his omega.Oi! It's not nice to smirk like that!





	1. Forty-Ten

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Darmys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darmys/gifts), [5foot4hobbit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/5foot4hobbit/gifts), [the_92](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_92/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Let it be known that Mr. Dean Ferrers, master of Barton Park, did not pout or sulk at his recent (redacted) birthday. He was noble and generous of nature, choosing to overlook any sniggering that certain family members (especially one with blue eyes and impossible hair) may or may not have done. Fortunately that particular family member had promised a second present – gentle reader, do I really have to tell you what the alpha's first present was? - and with the arrival of spring, it was time for Dean to have it.

“It is a book.”

Monseigneur Castiel Ferrers only narrowly resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his husband.

“Open it”, he urged.

Dean did so, and was even more surprised by the book's contents. It was a set of sketches of gentlemen.

“I thought that it was time to immortalize us in paint, along with your other ancestors”, Castiel said. “These are eight of the top painters in the country. They have each done a sketch to show their styles, and you can choose whichever one you like. Then they will come down and paint us both this summer, when the light is better.”

Dean smiled.

“Do I get to wear the medieval costume?” he asked.

“Only if I get to take you out of it afterwards”, Castiel said crisply, enjoying the way his husband's eyes widened at that. “In fact, perhaps we have better go and try it on now. All that pie you eat may mean that you cannot fit into it.”

“I can have it altered”, Dean said, trying to still his suddenly rapid breathing. His mate grinned.

“Or I can find other ways to help you work it off”, he said. “Coming?”

“I think that I soon will be!”

+~+~+

Down in the library, their twenty-two-year-old son Cassiel had been suckling his sixth and latest son, an alpha who had been born on New Year's Day and had been named for his father. An appropriate choice as he had been ten pounds to push out; the poor omega had taken some time to recover. And now to hear the familiar bumping and groaning from on high. He sighed, and fitted in the ear-plugs that he always kept with him. Across from him, his silent husband grinned and did the same. They both knew the drill.

+~+~+

It was April, and still bitterly cold. Castiel had sent his son Anaximander up to the farm, to tell them that they were to release an extra ration of food to people to help cope with the unseasonable chill. The omega wryly thought that it was fortunate so many people believed lunacy was contagious, and steered clear of the place where he kept his copious food stocks in case all the injured soldiers there gave them it.

“You had a letter from London”, Dean said, looking across at his mate (Castiel may or may not have smirked at his husband's suddenly increased breathing when he saw the omega was wearing the spectacles again). 

“Yes, it is my secret alpha lover that I keep up there”, Castiel said airily.

“Cas!”

The omega chuckled.

“It is from Mr. Charles Dickens”, he said. “I am helping to support him as he becomes established as a writer; Cassiel showed me some of his work, and I was impressed. His “Pickwick Papers” are currently being serialized in a magazine up there.”

“That is kind of you”, Dean said.

“He has also done me a small favour”, Castiel said. “He has penned a short story set in what is very obviously Charlie's and Dorothy's hotel up in the Lakes, which should help them through this unseasonably cold spring. And with Vicky taking her husband Peter up there, they should be all right.”

Dean had to admit that he was worried about his friend over that. The last two months had shown no sign of spring, being bitterly cold, and he appreciated that his husband was always looking out for his friend. And that he looked so fine in those spectacles.....

+~+~+

A little time later, Cassiel and Goliath had need of their ear-plugs. Again.

+~+~+

At your age.

That was what Castiel thought but, wisely, did not say. His brother Gabriel had dropped by just after May Day with the bombshell news that he was emigrating to the United States. 

“You know that Luke's brother Michael went out there some years back”, he explained. “We both thought we had heard the last of him. He did really well for himself, but shortly before he died, he found out that his wife had cuckolded him – with more than one other man! So he changed his will and left everything he died possessed of to Luke! And yes, I know he is sixty-three and I am... younger, but I am looking forward to it. Besides, Mark will run the estate well enough here.”

Castiel had his doubts about that. Mark Brandon, Gabriel's alpha son and twenty-five years of age, was something of a hot-head, although he had calmed down a little following his recent marriage to a local omega called Peter Greenwood. Still, his brother was clearly looking forward to the trip, so he owed it to him to be positive.

“Are you not dreading the sea-crossing, though?” he worried.

“They say that the great Brunel is working on a steam-powered ship, that can do the crossing in a quarter of the time”, Gabriel said. “It will probably not be ready to sail until next year, but we have to sort things out at both ends beforehand anyway. I am really looking forward to it.”

+~+~+

“I am really dreading it!”

It was some two hours later, Castiel stared at his brother in surprise.

“What has happened?” he asked. “You only went to see Mother....”

He stopped, as realization dawned. He tried not to smile, but judging from his brother's scowl, he failed in the attempt.

“She said she has always liked America!” Gabriel groaned. “Can you imagine it?”

“Perhaps the Americans will like those stories she writes?” Castiel suggested. “And when they find out that she is your mother.....”

Gabriel put his head in his hands and moaned.

+~+~+

Unlike a certain alpha he could mention, Castiel was not yet.... forty-ten years of age. Yet on days like today, he really felt his age, especially after having to pose all day for the painter.

“An electric telegraph?” (1) he asked. 

Across the table, his twelve-year-old omega son Phoenix nodded. Despite the fact that he had inherited his alpha father's appetite, he always looked barely a meal away from starvation (and no, said alpha father was not jealous of that fact, and anyone with blue eyes who said otherwise could shut up!).

“It uses electric pulses to send messages to a pointer device, which turns to the letter sent”, he explained. “People will soon be able to send messages across the country as fast as light. Well, as fast as they can be transcribed at the other end, that is.”

“Why would anyone want to do that?” Dean scoffed.

“I suppose that eventually, one could use it to order one's shopping from the village and have it delivered”, Castiel said with a sly smile. “Or maybe connect to the local bakery and order a pie for collection later.”

His alpha was giving him the quivering lip again, which meant that the mention of pie had sparked his appetite. Dean had long figured out that it had precisely zero effect on his omega, but there was always a first time. Although the time that Castiel had said that it made him look cute, Dean had pou.... sulked for the rest of the day.

“Father wants pie again”, Phoenix smirked.

“Well, what with the portrait painter here, Dean is not allowed pie until he is finished”, Castiel said, ignoring the look of utter betrayal he got. “Those clothes are tight enough as it is. But I may let him have one when we are done. _If_ he behaves.”

Dean smiled at that, despite his youngest son muttering what sounded like 'whipped'. He must have misheard the boy.

+~+~+

Inias had come over from Iverton House, and he looked strangely depressed. Castiel asked why.

“Is it the news from London?” he asked. “That had been coming for some time, surely?”

The previous year, society in the capital had been rocked by an explosive falling out between King William IV and his sister-in-law Victoire, Duchess of Kent and mother of the king's heiress Princess Alexandrina Victoria. The duchess had moved into Kensington Palace despite William telling her not to, and he had publicly humiliated her at a banquet, saying that he prayed only that he might live long enough for the princess to reach eighteen 'so that others might not rule through her'. The social shaming had been mortifying for both ladies, and the king had indeed gotten his wish, the princess having attained her majority the previous month. Only just; the king's health had also been fading ever since his eldest (illegitimate) daughter had died in April, and news had reached the valley the day before that he had finally died.

“Fitz is worried about that”, Inias admitted, “especially with his family owning lands in Hanover. Now that the two countries are split, there may be problems. No, it is my eldest, Alan. His wife Jane gave birth to a healthy beta son yesterday, and they are naming him Charles.”

Castiel looked at his friend in confusion.

“So?” he asked. Inias looked at him mournfully.

 _“I am a grandfather!”_ he wailed.

Castiel shook his head at his friend, and rang the bell for some tea and cakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The telegraph system described here was later adapted to include a printing device but never caught on, and was soon supplanted by an American device that used Morse Code.


	2. Wrong Track

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2\. There is a surprising change of address, and two of Castiel's and Dean's sons get themselves into difficult situations. Scaden may be able to buy his way out of his mess with an apology pie (which Dean is NOT allowed to share, no matter how much he pouts), but Anaximander makes a rather more serious mistake which may have Consequences. There is another general election, and an early arrival.

Castiel tried not to interfere too much in his children's lives. However, when he was asked... well, that was another matter.

His eldest son stood in front of him, and hung his head in shame.

“I know that you did not mean any harm”, Castiel said gently, “but allowing yourself to be kissed by Mistress Miller the town tart was a stupid move, son.”

“I know, papa.”

“And not immediately owning up to your pregnant mate made matters infinitely worse”, Castiel went on. “This may be a country area, but word always gets around. You should have been honest with him.”

“If I find out the bastard who told him....” Scaden began. Castiel silenced him with a Look.

“You will do nothing!” he said firmly. “Instead, you will go down to the bakery and order a large pie for your mate, and then beg his forgiveness over it.”

“That sounds a good idea”, Dean agreed. Castiel turned the Look on him.

“You are not allowed to go with him. I would like Jesse to actually get the pie!”

“But Caaaas......”

Scaden Ferrers smiled to himself.

+~+~+

Summer had come late that year, but with August just days away, it was at last warm. Castiel frowned as he read the paper.

“Well, that is a surprise”, he said. “The young queen has moved into Buckingham Palace, rather than St. James'.”

“Perhaps the latter has too many associations with the past?” Dean offered.

“The news from Bristol is perhaps more pertinent to ourselves”, Castiel said. “Gabriel was right; Brunel has launched that steamship of his, the “Great Western”, and she is sailing to London to be fitted out. With his railway being built from there to London, the path to the New World will be quicker and easier than ever.”

“How will that affect us?” Dean asked.

“Because there are also plans for a railway linking the port with Exeter”, Castiel said. “Remember how people laughed at Mrs. Moseley's warning that 'an iron horse would come to the valley and change all'? The natural route from Bristol would be to round the bottom of the Quantock Hills, then cut through to our valley and an easy run down to Exeter.”

“People down here will not want to go all the way to America”, Dean scoffed.

“Maybe”, Castiel said, “but for those who dream of making their fortune in London, the capital will suddenly be reachable in hours rather than days. Change is coming, and we shall have to be prepared for it.”

Dean thought about that. His mate smiled.

“Though I suppose it may also mean that pies can be delivered here more easily....”

“Yes!”

+~+~+

“A letter from Adam”, Dean said, smiling. “His daughter Charity has been accepted as a lady-in-waiting to the Queen.”

“That is good”, Castiel said abstractedly. His husband looked at him in concern.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“There is, of course, a general election”(1), Castiel said. “Mr. Leamington has done a good job of representing his new area, and I think that we should re-affirm our support for him.”

The seat of Three Bartons had been amongst the many to be disenfranchised by the Great Reform Act of some five years back. But Grey had only been able to secure his reforms by promising an increase in the country vote to match the new town representation, so each of the English counties now returned two members themselves. Mr. Leamington had been elected easily in the '33 and '35 elections, but this time the Conservatives were putting up a strong local candidate against him, a Mr. Nicholas Clegg.

“Should we get involved?” Dean wondered.

“Mr. Clegg has made some most rude remarks about omegas”, Castiel said slyly. “In particular, about how some of them seem to control their alphas through, and I quote, 'restricting their activities in the bedroom'.”

He smirked inwardly as he watched his husband struggle with that. Of course everyone knew that Mr. Dean Ferrers was totally whipped, just as everyone knew how much he hated to be reminded of that fact.

“Such views are archaic”, Dean said loftily. “We should oppose him just on that alone.”

“Yes, dear”, Castiel smiled.

Dean looked at him sharply. Was his mate having him on?

Castiel nodded for some reason.

+~+~+

“The Whigs are back in, albeit with a reduced majority”, Castiel said, reading the paper. “And Mr. Leamington increased his majority, which was good.”

“Very good”, Dean agreed. “We should celebrate that.”

Castiel just looked at him. Dean trying not to look like an over-eager puppy was almost unbearably cu.... endearing. The omega sighed.

“Very well”, he said in a put-upon voice. “You may order a celebratory pie....”

“Yes!” Dean punched the air in triumph.

“A small one”, Castiel amended.

“Cas! Mean omega!”

Castiel smiled darkly, and stood up. 

“I was thinking of some other way of celebrating”, he said, enjoying the way in which his husband's eyes darkened at that. “Meet me upstairs in five minutes. There will be.... a certain item of underwear.”

Dean gulped.

“Which you will be wearing!”

+~+~+

Some little time later, Cassiel cursed when he realized that he had, for once, misplaced the ear-plugs. Fortunately his silent husband knew where to find them – and quickly!

+~+~+

Anaximander Ferrers slipped in through the front door, and checked the hallway. No-one around. Good, he might make it to his room if he....

“Xand?”

Damnation, he had forgotten his papa's sixth sense. Trying not to look guilty, he walked dutifully into the library.

Castiel looked sharply at his son.

“Samandriel called round”, he said pointedly.

Anaximander thought a rude word. His father's eyes narrowed.

“One of his servants claimed to have seen his son Tempus coming out of the summerhouse with a beta”, Castiel said. “Someone who answers your description quite well. And you have been over his house quite a lot of late.”

Anaximander stared at the floor. Apparently today was not the day that it started being obliging, and opened up to swallow him whole.

“Well?” Castiel asked.

“We.... Tem and I.... we, uh....”

Castiel winced. Both young men were over twenty, and really should have known better. If his friend's son had been in or anywhere near a heat......

“You know the rules about omegas, Anaximander”, he said plainly. “You knew the risks of being with one, and yet you still went ahead?”

“Sorry, papa.”

“I do not think that 'sorry' will cut it this time”, Castiel said. “One can only hope that Tempus is not in heat, otherwise when Dean finds out....”

They both winced, Anaximander even more so when the subject of their conversation burst into the room at that very moment. Fortunately he was too distracted to notice anything amiss.

“Scay called”, he said urgently. “Jesse has gone into labour. Our second grandson is on his way.”

Castiel looked at the calendar, and fretted even more. Two weeks before his due date.

“Let us go!” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) It was customary in those days for an election to be called on the death of a monarch. As it turned out, the voting reforms and Victoria's long reign conspired to make this the last time it would ever happen.


	3. The 'Joys' Of Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3\. More family problems for Castiel and Dean, as they have to make the best of a bad job with one of their sons, and narrowly avoid disaster with two others. Their daughter Mariel has some good news when she returns to the valley, although Dean has mixed opinions about her husband. And Phoenix Ferrers has problems getting some peace and quiet.

Castiel patted his eldest son's head.

“Never mind”, he said consolingly. “Your hand will work again.”

The birth of their second grandson had been nothing like as smooth as his elder brother Dane, with Jesse alternating between screaming in agony and listing in excruciating detail just what he planned to do to his alpha if he ever tried to knot him again (Dean had been a little alarmed to see his mate nodding in agreement at that point). Fortunately after six hours of highly inventive screaming and swearing, a beta baby called Joscelyn had announced his arrival into the world on his grandpapa's forty-eighth birthday. And yes, Dean _had_ asked for a celebratory pie. 

Asked. Not begged.

Not exactly begged. 

Not in the strictest sense of the word.

Shut up!

+~+~+

“Mr. and Mrs. James, sirs.”

The butler announced the new arrivals as grandly as he did everyone else, which fact was perhaps surprising given that both were very clearly of the yeoman class. They were a man and a woman, both around forty years of age, and both were clearly surprised to be here.

“Please be seated”, Castiel said from his couch. “Dean?”

The alpha was reeking of unhappiness at the situation, but Castiel had made it quite clear that even the smallest growl would have some Most Unpleasant Consequences, and the alpha knew full well that he had meant it. Better to buckle under and pretend that he was whipped for once.

Was his mate smiling slightly? He was, damnation!

“Thank you for coming today”, Castiel said. “I wish that it were in happier circumstances, but given what has happened, we must make the best of a bad situation.”

He turned his gaze on the slender figure standing behind the couch, who seemed to be finding the scarlet-patterned rug quite fascinating. His fifteen-year-old alpha son Ivan, whose face matched that rug rather well.

“Let us deal plainly”, Castiel said. “First, was the coupling consensual?”

Mrs. James looked mortified at the word, but her husband answered.

“It was, my lord”, he said. “Nell is a good girl, but.... well, we all have our weaknesses.”

“Indeed we do”, Castiel said firmly. “So, to the first matter. Does she wish to have the child?”

“She does, sirs”, Mrs. James said. “She is seeing young Pelham, Mr. Ross' youngest. He is shocked by the whole thing, of course, but he says he will stand by her. Only.....”

“He is worried about the expense of raising a child?” Castiel asked. Both his visitors blushed.

“They both are”, Mr. James admitted.

“Well, they need worry no more”, Castiel said firmly. “As the child is our blood, we shall of course fully fund its upbringing.

Both his visitors looked shocked.

“But sirs....” Mr. James blurted out.

“To anticipate your question”, Castiel cut in, “if Mr. Turner and your daughter marry and raise the child as their own, we shall fund them, whatever the child is. However, that will in no way grant us any say in its upbringing, which will be as it should be, the job of its parents. I would ask, however, that when they reach twenty-one, they are informed of the circumstances of their birth. Although I rather fear that, valley life being what it is, they will probably find out beforehand.”

“Papa”, Ivan said, stepping forward, “I... uh....”.

Castiel fixed him with a Look. His son shuffled backwards. Even Dean flinched.

“I am Severely Displeased with _you_ , boy!” the omega said sharply. “Despite all our efforts at raising you in the correct manner, you acted without thought. And you shall pay the consequences. For the rest of your time under this roof, your allowance will be cut by half. And I shall be watching you _much_ more closely in future. Do I make myself clear?”

Ivan hung his head in shame.

“Yes, papa”, he said dutifully.

Hah, Dean thought. I am not the only one here who is totally whipped.

Damnation, even the Jameses were smirking now!

+~+~+

Dean liked his children, but his favourite son-in-law was his daughter Mariel's husband Ralston Turner, grandson of the irascible Rufus. The couple had moved away to Wellington in Somersetshire where he worked, but were paying a short visit to Barton Park. 

It also helped that, unlike his wife, Ralston showed excellent taste in sharing Dean's preference for pie over cake.

“Although May will not let me have as much as I would like”, he told Dean ruefully. Three months earlier his wife had endured a most difficult birth of what had turned out to be triplets, all daughters. Both Dean and Castiel had been overjoyed that the eldest of them was to take the name of Dean's mother into the next generation, the others being Rebecca and Susan. 

“Castiel is never that cruel to me”, Dean said with a smile.

The butler, who had just come into the room, seemed to have been taken with a sudden coughing fit. Dean glared at him.

“Sorry, sir”, the servant said, looking anything but. “Monseigneur Castiel requests your presence.”

The two alphas got up and went into the room where Castiel was holding one of his new grand-daughters. The omega smiled at them, but when he saw Dean, his smile faded.

“What has Dean been saying?” he demanded.

“How does he do that?” Ralston asked in wonderment. 

“Dean has that guilty look on his face”, Castiel said crisply. “The last time I saw that look, I checked the pantry and found we were a whole pie short.”

Dean reddened. He remembered that. The Dark Days when he had been denied pie for a month (and certain other things for a whole, interminable week!), just because he had felt peckish one time. It had been incredibly hard.

In both senses!

“Dean was just telling me about how you always let him have pie”, Ralston said blithely.

Dean glared at his most unfavourite and utterly traitorous son-in-law. He could see from the look on his mate's face that his evening was about to become very, very interesting.....

+~+~+

“You were exceptionally lucky”, Castiel told his son Anaximander. “Tempus went into heat just days after you and he mated, and he has just had his third heat since then. There will be no pregnancy.”

Anaximander sighed in relief.

“Unlike Ivan, you had a fortuitous escape”, Castiel said. “One can only hope that your eventual choice of mate is a sound one, especially now that Tempus is seeing that awful beta Martin Shene down in Dark Barton.”

“What is wrong with him?” Dean asked.

“He is only after him for his money”, Castiel said. “Fortunately I have warned Alfie, so he and FitzAlan are going to put a stop to it. Some people are only ever after one thing.”

Dean stared sharply at their son. He was sure that he had muttered something about pots and kettles there.

+~+~+

Phoenix Ferrers was feeling very pleased with himself just now. He had gone out for a walk and had encountered the obnoxious Alexander Baldwin, an alpha who was far too full of himself and thought that he was God's gift to omegas and women everywhere. It had been a bruising encounter, but Phoenix was fairly sure that he had not actually broken the alpha's jaw. Maybe fractured it, but at least it would teach him a lesson.

He was surprised when he was almost knocked over by Peter, one of the servants who came barrelling out of the front door at a run as if the hounds of Hell were after him. Phoenix stared at him in surprise.

“Is something wrong, Pete?” he asked.

The boy looked at him, and at first seemed incapable of speech. But eventually he managed, “it's the twenty-fourth!” and fled to the stables whilst adding a belated “sir” over his shoulder. Phoenix stared after him in confusion, and entered the house. What was special about it being January the twenty-fourth?

He was about to sit down in the library when he heard it. A moan that started out low at first, then rose through an impressive number of octaves before finishing as a high-pitched scream. In a voice he recognised.

_His father?_

Too late, the young omega remembered. Lord above, it was his father's birthday. No wonder he had looked so distracted at breakfast that morning. And that meant.....

“Oh Lord, moremoremoremoremore!”

Phoenix fairly sprinted from the room. 

+~+~+

Four days later, and Phoenix was able to return to the house. The look of dazed bewilderment on his father's face was bad enough, and the way he sat down painfully slowly (onto a bright pink cushion!) was infinitely worse. And to cap it all, his papa's smug expression – ew! Still, at least he would get some peace and quiet in his own bed that evening. 

Yes, he always had been that hopelessly optimistic. Because he had barely gotten into bed that night when he heard a horribly familiar sound and, too late, remembered. It was exactly a year since the rather difficult birth of his brother Cassiel's last son. Which meant.....

The moaning got ever louder. Phoenix Ferrers just cried.


	4. Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4\. Castiel has to wield the iron first inside the velvet glove, and someone leaves the valley as a result. There is an art exhibition which leaves a certain alpha quite flustered, and a hotel stay which leaves a certain alpha feeling as if certain body parts are no longer on speaking terms with the rest of him (they aren't). And Castiel has a surprise for his brother Gabriel as the latter leaves with his husband Lucifer for a new life in the New World.

It was not uncommon for Monseigneur Castiel Ferrers to be present at the weekly distribution of wages and truck tokens to his estate staff. So none of his workers thought it unusual that particular February day, even if it was bitterly cold. The stewards handed out what was necessary in alphabetical order, which meant that only a few people had been dealt with before the omega stepped forward.

“One moment”, he said.

The three Baldwin brothers, who were standing by the table, all bowed to him. Castiel stared sharply at one of them.

“Mr. Alexander”, he said crisply. “It has come to my attention that you have been openly mocking a wounded soldier. Is this true?”

“No, sir”, the man said.

Castiel went over to the door behind the table, and opened it. He ushered through a man in his early twenties, who looked fearfully around him.

“Would you care to reconsider you answer?” Castiel said heavily. “Bear in mind that I have made _my_ position as to how this country should support the brave men who fight for it quite clear. And that this gentleman, Mr. Philip Ford, is the stepson of my brother-in-law's ward Miss Stephanie.”

Mr. Baldwin gulped, and glanced at his brothers. They both seemed to be finding the nearby window quite fascinating.

“Your behaviour of late has not gone unnoticed”, Castiel said coldly. “Had it been just this, I might have been prevailed upon to issue you a final warning and have done with it. But your behaviour clearly indicates that you consider yourself above such things. I have therefore taken.... measures.”

The younger Baldwins were now clearly edging away from their elder sibling, who gulped again.

“There is a ship leaving Bristol for the United States next week”, Castiel said. “Coach travel there, a passage on it, and a final settlement of your wages is in your envelope today. You are no longer in my employ. Good day, sir.”

“Why, you miserable little omeg....”

Mr. Baldwin took one step towards Castiel. He did not manage a second before an enraged Dean flew through the still-open door and was on him.

Castiel may have been a little slow in his reaction.

“Dean”, he said quietly. “That is enough.” He paused before adding, “for now.”

His husband backed off, still growing at the other alpha who fled without even waiting for his payment. Castiel made sure that the stewards gave it to one of his brothers before leaving. His estate would be a happier place without attitudes like that.

+~+~+

Castiel and Dean had travelled down to Exeter to see an art exhibition. And Dean did not whine about being allowed to visit his favourite bakery in the cathedral city, because his mate was so good that he allowed them time to go there anyway. 

No, the alpha was _not_ whipped. Shut up!

He was, however, mildly..... irritated. Yes, that was a good word. Irritated. Not the least bit envious.

“Modern art!” he grumbled. “Far too licentious, in my opinion.”

Castiel did not smirk, very loudly.

“Stop it!” the alpha hissed.

“Stop what?” Castiel asked innocently.

“Doing that judgemental silence thing of yours”, Dean grumbled. “You know how much it annoys me.”

Castiel paused before another statue. The subject of the exhibition was 'Alpha And Omega Through The Ages', which Dean might have been fine with – except some of the alphas were.... well, they just were.

“As least the sculptor was not short of clay!” Castiel chuckled.

Dean pouted.

“Never mind”, Castiel said consolingly. “I have booked us into the main hotel here for the night.”

His husband frowned.

“Why?” he asked. “I mean, we can easily make it back?”

The omega was suddenly much closer to him. Dean gulped.

“Because once we are there, you can help me off with the panties that I am currently wearing”, the omega smirked.

A whine escaped Dean's mouth, and fled for safety.

“P...p...p.. panties?”

“Lacy see-through!” Castiel teased.

Dean had to whip off his jacket and hold it in front of him. Because.

+~+~+

Castiel was concerned. 

“Most people have cancelled their crossings, after that engine explosion”, he told Gabriel as they stood on the quayside at Avonmouth, near Bristol. “Are you sure you and Luke will be all right?”

“Sure!” Gabriel scoffed. “Lightning does not strike twice in the same place.”

His husband joined them.

“I take it from my mate's happy demeanour that you have not told him yet?” he asked Castiel.

“Told me what?” Gabriel asked.

Castiel should have felt guilty, but a far too long list of annoyances from growing up as Gabriel's brother helped remedy that.

“I arranged a little surprise for you”, he said.

“Ooh, I love surprises!” Gabriel trilled. “Where is it?”

“Cooeee!”

The colonel and his mate turned to see a familiar figure waving at them from the ship. Castiel on the other hand was keenly watching his brother's face. He did not think he had ever seen that shade of white before.

“Mother?” Gabriel said weakly.

“Surprise!” Castiel said. “I paid for her to join you both. Enjoy your trip, brother.”

He fled to the safety of his carriage before Gabriel could hit him. The language that followed him as he did was.... inventive.

+~+~+

“That was very mean”, Dean said reprovingly as they drove back to their hotel. “Was he mad?”

“Furious!” Castiel grinned. “All those pranks he played on me and Alfie, paid back in spades!”

“Well, we had better be off”, his husband said. “We have a long journey ahead of us.”

Castiel thought wryly that if things went as planned, they would soon be able to do this journey in hours rather than days when the railway came. Everything was changing, but some things stayed the same.

“A new world is coming”, he said, “and us older folks will find it hard to cope with all the changes. I think that tonight, it would be nice for us to just cu....”

He stopped. His alpha was looking keenly at him.

“Come together and hold each other in a manly-like manner?” Castiel amended.

“Harrumph!”

“Well, it has been a long drive here, and we do as you say face an equally long journey back tomorrow”, Castiel said. “Besides, you will need your energy.”

“For what?” Dean asked.

“I am wearing your favourite blue panties”, Castiel said blithely.

The drive back to the hotel was, as one might imagine, a fast one.

+~+~+

Phoenix Ferrers was looking forward to a quiet night in for once. His parents were not due back from Bristol until late tomorrow, and even better, his almost equally insatiable brother Cassiel and the fellow omega's sex-maniac of a husband Goliath were away on a rip Ilfracombe, so someone would get a good night's sleep for once.

Unfortunately, his seventeen-year-old alpha brother Demetrius had apparently decided to take advantage of their parents' absence, and had smuggled his latest omega conquest in from the villag. His latest and very loud omega conquest. Phoenix got into bed and put his head under his pillow, sobbing quietly. This was his life?

ΩΑΩΑΩΑΩΑΩΑΩΑΩ

And that's all – no, not really. The (mis-)adventures of nineteenth century Cas and Dean continue in the next installment of _The Dashwood Inheritance: Harvests And Homecomings_ , set another seven years into a future where the modern age reaches the Culm Valley, and someone long gone makes a surprise return. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ship Lucifer and Gabriel sailed on was the “S.S. Great Western”, a paddle-wheel wooden steamship built as naval technology was changing very rapidly. At 251 feet (76 metres) long, she could carry 128 first-class passengers (and their 20 servants!) and was the largest passenger ship in the world from up to 1839. The explosion she had suffered meant that there were only seven passengers on board for the fifteen-day crossing at an average speed of 8½ knots (about 10 miles per hour).


End file.
